What subject could you write about with authority?
This was the question I asked some of my students yesterday. We were in a workshop on narrative non-fiction.
I haven’t taught non-fiction before — not for a whole semester —and so I haven’t ever used that question before. But it seems like a good one.
I said a few more things, to clarify what I meant —
What could you put together three or four hundred words about, right now, without having to do any research? So it’s going to be something you’re already very familiar with.
Among the subjects the students felt they had the authority to write about were chess, horse riding and cat rescuing.
The idea for the authority question came out of a Creative Writing exercise I’d like to share.
It’s a simple, hopefully fun way of guiding students towards a sense of their own fictional or non-fictional territory. And it takes the form of a guessing game. (And I’m starting to do a bit more stuff that’s just for paid subscribers.)
Here’s how it goes:
I call this the One Word Game.
Everyone in the workshop is asked silently to think of a single word that they can give a clear definition.
The aim of the game is to pick a word that only one other person in the room (not the tutor) can also correctly define. The lower the score, the better; but zero doesn’t count.
And so, when they are choosing their word, the writers must be thinking of all they know about the others in the room, and using that information. Do they share a very specific shared vocabulary with just one of them? Through age, profession, upbringing, hobby?
After everyone has chosen their word, which might take five minutes, the tutor goes around the group — one by one — so that everyone can take their turn.
Here are three ways the guessing game could go.
Writer A says the word, ‘ampersand’.
Eight people in the group put their hands up to show they believe they know that word. The tutor invites them one by one to give a definition of ‘ampersand’.
If the first one says, ‘It’s a way of writing “and” as a squiggle’ the tutor checks with Writer A. Writer A says that’s correct. One point. And if the other seven say, ‘Yes, I was going to give that definition, too,’ then Writer A gets eight points in total.
If the first definition isn’t what Writer A was thinking (they nod or shake their head or say No), the tutor moves on to the next guesser, and the next, until they reach a correct one — according to Writer A — or until there’s a bust, no-one left. Writer A is then asked to give everyone the correct definition.
Obviously, trust and truthfulness are assumed here. A slower version of the game would involve everyone writing down their words and answers.
In this case, because ‘ampersand’ isn’t that obscure, Writer A ends up with a score of 8.
Writer B says the word ‘grockle’.
Four people put up their hands to show they believe they know that word. The tutor invites the first of them to give a definition of ‘grockle’. And they say, ‘It’s another word for “widget”.’ But Writer B, when consulted, says, ‘No, that’s not it.’
The tutor invites the second guesser to give a definition. They say, ‘It’s a word for holidaymakers (I’m being polite) used in Devon.’
Writer B says, ‘Yes, that’s it.’
Of the other two, when asked, one says they would have said that, too; the other admits they were thinking something else.
In this case, because ‘grockle’ is fairly obscure, Writer B ends up with a score of 2.
Writer C says the word ‘simul’.
Only one person puts up their hand. The tutor invites them to give a definition. And they say, ‘It’s a simultaneous chess demonstration — one player playing twenty games against twenty other players.’
Writers C says, ‘Yep.’
In this case, because ‘simul’ is pretty damn obscure, Writer C scores 1.
The winner, out of these three, is Writer C.
And how did C win?
Perhaps because they had a conversation with the guesser about chess, during the first coffee break. Perhaps because they assumed that, in a group that size, one person would be a semi-serious chess player.
After the One Word Game is concluded, and the winner or winners congratulated, the tutor asks everyone to think about the other words that each of them knows but shares with only a very few other people.
Surely, the tutor says, that’s an indication of their territory. It may be the vocabulary of the distant past, or some hyperlocal slang, or jargon for a trade or profession, or something else.
The writer knows the word, and knows something of the speakers who use or used it, and so the writer has authority to write about those things.
That’s their territory.
Try it.
Find your world through your words.
'Grockle' also works for Lymington's summer hordes. 'Hemmies' was a transient description.